


what's mine is yours

by kayytx



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, First Dates, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Tony Stark is a clothes stealing gremlin, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wedding Fluff, seriously........just fluff, this is really nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 13:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17366870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayytx/pseuds/kayytx
Summary: 5 times Tony stole Steve’s clothes, and 1 time Steve returned the favor.orFor a billionaire, Tony Stark really doesn't pay for a lot of what he wears.





	what's mine is yours

**Author's Note:**

> will this trope ever get old? no. no, it will not.
> 
> thank u to [downeylove](http://downeylove.tumblr.com) forever and ever for looking things over and generally just being the best.

**1.**

To say that Tony “steals” Steve’s clothes would be to imply that he consciously makes the decision to take something of Steve’s without him finding out about it. So technically speaking, Tony doesn’t steal anything the first time he takes one of Steve’s hoodies and decides never to give it back. In fact, Steve  _ gives _ Tony his hoodie. Well, Steve lends it to Tony. He just never specifies when he expects to get it back.

Tony hadn’t expected the day to end with him wearing Steve’s hoodie back to the tower. It had been an ordinary enough day to begin with. A local theatre was playing Hitchcock films throughout the month and Steve had wanted to catch the afternoon screening of  _ Notorious _ . He’d asked Tony to go with him, and Tony had agreed because he has a stupid crush on stupid Steve and will always stupidly say yes whenever Steve invites him somewhere.

They buy a bunch of snacks to munch on during the movie, but Steve’s metabolism really is something else, and by the time the film is over and they are walking back to the tower, Steve’s stomach starts rumbling again. So Tony drags Steve over to the side of the street where a hot dog vendor has set up and orders them a couple. He’s just finished adding all his toppings and is about to take his first bite when a jogger slams right into him and crushes the hot dog to his chest, leaving smears of ketchup, mustard, and relish on the front of Tony’s t-shirt.

It all happens too quickly for Tony to really react beyond staring pathetically at his food that’s now splattered across the pavement. The jogger is incredibly apologetic, and Tony just waves him off because at that point his biggest disappointment is that he just lost a perfectly good hot dog. That isn’t necessarily a huge deal – he can always just turn around to the vendor and ask for another one – but he’d been excited to bite into  _ that _ one, damn it. And not to mention, he has a giant stain on his shirt now and god knows how annoying the paparazzi would be if they caught him looking anything less than perfect.

Steve, always reliable Steve, acts for Tony and grabs a bunch of napkins to get most of the sauce off Tony’s shirt, but it’s a lost cause and likely won’t be saved until he gets back to the tower and adds it to his pile of laundry for the bots to take care of.

“Damn it, I’m gonna have to walk for another twenty minutes with this massive stain on my shirt,” Tony complains while wiping at his shirt. “People will either call me a huge useless mess and ridicule me – which I guess won’t exactly be new – or they’ll mistake the ketchup for blood and start some stupid rumor about me getting stabbed on the street.” He looks up at Steve and asks, “Which one do you think it will be?”

Instead of responding, Steve just laughs and strips off his hoodie. He hands it to Tony and suggests, “Or you can put this on to cover up the stain and no one would have to know.”

“They don’t call you a master strategist for nothing, Cap.”

So Tony puts the hoodie on and buys another hot dog and a pretzel for good measure. There are no more incidents this time around, and they happily eat their food while they walk back to the tower.

When they get home, Tony immediately throws his stained top into the hamper and puts on a fresh shirt. He eyes the hoodie for a bit before tugging it on as well. It’s comfortable, it’s warm, and it smells good. Until Steve comes knocking on his door to demand it back, Tony is going to keep it.

**2.**

It’s cold out, and Tony’s neck is bare and exposed to the frigid air, freezing him to the core.

His heart feels warm though. Because he’s on a date. With Steve. He’s happy.

His hands are also warm. Because Steve is holding onto them as he guides Tony around the skating rink, weaving through and between everyone around them, his laughter ringing through the air. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world.

Steve’s  _ holding his hands _ . On a  _ date _ .

Tony hasn’t stopped smiling for hours.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Tony was an idiot when he got dressed earlier in the day and forgot to grab a scarf before meeting up with Steve.

(He may have been a little excited and rushed through getting ready. Sue him. He can afford it.)

So while, metaphorically speaking, Tony feels like he’s snuggling by an open fire, it doesn’t change the fact that physically, the cold is seeping deeper and deeper into his bones with each passing minute. By the time Steve leads Tony off the rink to return their skates, Tony’s positively shivering in his measly peacoat.

Steve, ever observant, notices right away.

“You should have told me if you were getting cold, Tony,” he gently chides as he rubs his hands up and down Tony’s arms. “Why didn’t you wear something a little thicker?”

“In my defense, you didn’t tell me where we were going.” Tony shrugs. “Plus, this is cashmere. I thought it would be warm enough. I don’t usually spend this much time outdoors during the winter. Getting dropped off from point to point in a heated car has its perks.”

“Well, your neck and collarbone are still bare. Those are the most important parts to cover up.”

Taking Tony’s hand, Steve guides him over to one of the fireplaces set up near the rink, then removes his scarf and starts to wind it around Tony’s neck instead. He takes his time, makes sure that Tony is completely covered up to his chin before stepping back to appraise his work.

“There,” he says. “Perfect.”

Tony the heat steadily crawling up his neck and his cheeks, but he’s pretty certain it has nothing to do with the new accessory added to his outfit and  _ everything _ to do with Steve’s proximity and the way he’s looking at Tony at that moment.

“I’m going to get us some drinks, then we can check out the holiday market. How does that sound?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

Steve beams. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.” With a tender kiss to Tony’s temple, Steve sets off towards the beverage stall.

On a normal day, Tony would bide his time by messing around on his phone, checking emails and reading the news so that he doesn’t stand idly by with nothing to focus on. Today, while on a date with Steve and standing among the festive lights of the skating rink in the winter market with soft Christmas music playing from the speakers scattered throughout the area, the air feels too magical for Tony to disrupt it with his tech. He takes to people watching instead -- families taking pictures in front of the big Christmas tree, friends chatting over disposable glasses of mulled wine, children lining up to see Santa and tell him what they want this year. Tony doesn’t often come to places like this because he tries to avoid anywhere that seems too crowded, but right here, right now, he can’t complain. He feels content.

Before he knows it, Steve is back by Tony’s side with two steaming foam cups. He hands one to Tony before taking a sip of his own.

“Coffee?” Tony asks hopefully.

“Nope.”

Tony looks suspiciously at Steve and takes a quick whiff, barely holding back a moan when the rich scent of chocolate fills his nostrils. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this is even better.”

“I figured this would be what you need,” Steve says through a tiny smirk, clearly delighted that something as simple as hot chocolate could make Tony so happy. He nods towards the direction of the stalls. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

With one hand firmly grasped in each other’s and the other clutching their cups of hot cocoa, Tony and Steve spend the rest of the evening wandering through the market, checking out each stall and looking at all their quirky offerings. They point and giggle at some of the weirder items and buy some goods for the team. When they start to get hungry they stop at the food stalls to order crepes and churros. They leave the market with bags full of ornaments for the team Christmas tree and huge grins spread across both their faces.

Steve walks Tony to his door when they get home and Tony lingers there, unwilling to let the date end. They stare dopily at each other for what seems like ages before Steve takes a marginal step backwards and breaks the silence.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Tony.”

“So did I.”

“You’d be open to another date sometime, then?”

“Absolutely.”

Steve pauses a bit, his eyes flickering down to Tony’s lips before he asks his next question. “May I kiss you, Tony?”

“Please,” Tony breathes.

Without another word, Steve leans forward and Tony meets him halfway. Their lips brush softly, hesitantly, before Steve applies more pressure, broadcasting his desire loud and clear. They stay in their embrace for what feels like hours, Steve’s hand gripping Tony’s waist and Tony’s arms flung around Steve’s neck in return. Tony could happily stay like this forever, but eventually the need for air wins out.

He pulls back breathlessly and slowly opens his eyes to see Steve staring wondrously back at him. There’s a soft smile spread across his cheeks as he leans in for another quick peck.

“Good night, Tony.”

Tony watches as Steve turns on his heels to leave. When he’s out of sight, Tony turns his doorknob and makes his way into his room. He stops in his walk-in closet first, unwinding Steve’s scarf from his neck and carefully hanging it up with Tony’s own collection. With one last brush of his hand down the material of the scarf, Tony starts to undress and get ready for bed.

**3.**

Tony wakes up to the smell of bacon and coffee. He stretches, feeling pleasantly sore, and debates the merits of staying snuggled up in the sheets versus leaving the bed. On the one hand, it’s nice and warm in bed, incredibly comfortable, and Steve’s scent still lingers on the pillow beside him, and Tony wants to bask in it. On the other hand, if he gets up, he can get coffee, and he has an inkling that Steve will be there to greet him, so Tony can still bask in his scent, with the added benefit of being held in his big, beefy arms.

The thought of being back in his super soldier’s embrace is too alluring to resist so, Tony pushes back the sheets and starts to get up. He spares the floor a quick glance, noting the clothes scattered around, and decides it’s too much of an effort to figure out which are his and which are Steve’s.

He picks up the first pair of boxers he finds -- which are his, hey! -- and grabs the shirt nearest him. He puts them on, but leaves the buttons of the shirt undone. Deciding that pants are unnecessary for the time being, he pads out to the kitchen.

As suspected, Steve is by the stove when Tony gets there. His hearing must have picked up Tony’s footsteps because he turns around right as Tony reaches the door.

“Hey,” Steve says softly. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.”

Tony will never cease to be amazed at how sweet this man is.

He closes the distance between them and kisses Steve, quick and chaste. “Morning, honey. I missed you, so I came looking for you. And you know I would go wherever the coffee is.”

Steve throws his head back in a laugh. “So did you want to see me? Or did you just want coffee? You’re sending mixed signals, sweetheart.”

“Why can’t a man have both?”

“Alright, you can have both. You can have anything you want. Take a seat and I’ll get you your coffee.”

“This is why you’re my favorite.”

“Oh? Is that the only reason?” Steve teases as he sets Tony’s mug down in front of him. Steam curdles from the top, and Tony can’t wait to chug it down. “Just because I bring you coffee?”

“Well, it  _ was _ the only reason. But after last night…I may have added a few more to my list.” Tony leers at Steve. He knows he probably looks ridiculous, what with how Steve seems to be holding back his laughter. But Tony’s having fun and he feels incredibly at ease. He doesn’t mind looking a little like a fool. Which he is. A lovesick fool.

Steve sits down next to him and tugs on Tony’s arm, drawing him forward until he’s settled in his lap. He nuzzles against Tony’s neck as he speaks. “Last night was…”

“Amazing? Yeah, I agree.”

“Phenomenal.”

“Care for a repeat performance?”

Steve chuckles. “I’d love to, but after breakfast I need to take a shower and meet Sam and Nat for training.”

“Alright,” Tony says, grinding in circles against Steve. “Either we skip breakfast or...I join you in the shower. Now, I’m up for both options, but if you’re training you’ll need to eat, so…” He nips at Steve’s bottom lip. “Conserving water is always a good idea, don’t you think?”

“Hm, I don’t know.” Steve sneaks a hand under Tony’s shirt, the heat from his hand feeling like a brand against his hip. “I’d hate to strip you out of this shirt. You look good in my clothes.”

“Well, I’ve been told red is my color.”

“It sure is. You can keep the shirt. Looks better on you anyway.”

Tony runs a finger down his torso, peeking up at Steve through his lashes. “You think so?”

A deep growl escapes out of Steve. He grabs Tony’s hips with both hands and grinds him down deeper. He breath comes out in hitches, and Tony knows they won’t be eating anytime soon.

“You want to skip breakfast, Captain Handsome?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s do that.” He stands up, and Tony wraps his legs around Steve’s waist as he walks them back towards the bedroom, sucking marks on Tony’s neck all the while.

“Shower’s still a good idea though,” Tony babbles. “But maybe skip training. Call it off. Take a day off.”

“Mm. Okay.”

The coffee goes cold. Tony couldn’t care less.

**4.**

“Fuck! Why are your feet so damn cold?!”

“My circulation is weird, Steve, you know this,” Tony says grumpily. “My hands and feet turn to ice easily and as my loving boyfriend, it’s your duty to warm me up.”

It’s a brisk February day and for the first time in months, they both have a free weekend to laze around and do absolutely nothing. They had considered going out for lunch, but it’s too cold and neither of them were too willing to leave the comfort of their home. Instead, Tony is curled up with Steve in the common room, the two of them hogging the entire couch. Steve is slouched down with a book in his lap on one end, his legs splayed out in front of him down the length of the sofa, while Tony is on the other end with his tablet in a similar position.

Only, Tony has snuck his bare feet into Steve’s shirt, tucking them up Steve’s back and under his arm to leech off of his furnace-like body heat. The rest of Tony’s body is just fine, at a regular temperature, but his feet are freezing and he figures the quickest way to warm them up is to use his own human-shaped heater. He’s got Steve squirming and hissing in his seat, trying to shove Tony’s legs away halfheartedly.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t!” Tony sing-songs.

Steve sighs. “No, I don’t, but please stop torturing me like this. I’m begging you.”

“But you’re warm. You’re like, my personal radiator.”

“Get some socks!”

“I don’t wanna move!” Tony whines. “I’m comfortable in this position and our room is too far away.  _ And you’re warm _ .” He pokes Steve with his toes and wiggles his eyebrows. “Besides, I just like being close to you.”

The last comment gets Steve to roll his eyes. He puts his book down and reaches for one of Tony’s feet, tickling it and getting Tony to pull away on reflex.

“If you get up and move a bit, your circulation will start flowing, and you’ll start warming up,” Steve says wisely.

Tony pretends to think about it. “Hm. Solid advice, but I think I’m going to ignore it. Here’s another idea: why don’t  _ you _ go get some socks for me, and while you’re at it, maybe a blanket too? The really fuzzy fleece one that Bruce gave me for my birthday.”

Steve throws Tony an assessing gaze, and for a moment it does look like he’s about to get up and fetch Tony a pair of socks because he’s the best boyfriend who loves Tony and wants him to be warm and comfortable. He makes to get up, then pauses, and promptly reminds Tony that there is, as always, the duality of man. Steve may be an amazing boyfriend, but he can also be a huge fucking troll when he feels like it. He slumps back down, picks up his book again, and ignores Tony’s request instead.

“Nope. I’m comfortable too. Maybe ask DUM-E. I’m sure he’ll do it.”

Tony’s jaw drops.

In retaliation, he shoves his feet further up Steve’s back to distract the man. While Steve squirms and whines about Tony’s cold feet, he takes the opportunity to reach over to Steve’s own feet, which are covered by the fuzziest, warmest-looking pair of socks. Without another word, he pulls them off of Steve, untucks his legs from his boyfriend’s back, and puts them on himself.

Steve glares accusingly at Tony. “That was mean.”

Tony only responds with a satisfied hum, turning back to his tablet as if nothing of note has happened. “You told me to get some socks. So I got some socks. I got some super warm, super comfortable, super fleecy, supersoldier socks. My feet feel better already.” He wiggles his toes. “Mm, nice and toasty.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“It isn’t?” Tony looks smugly at Steve, knowing he’s won this battle. “Well, like I said before, as my loving boyfriend, it’s your duty to warm me up. And it’s so nice of you to give me your socks, honey. Your country thanks you for your sacrifice.”

“You,” Steve huffs, “are a menace.”

“Maybe I am. But you love me anyway.”

“But I love you anyway.”

**5.**

It’s date night, so Tony has JARVIS set a reminder for him to resurface from the lab to freshen up before heading out with Steve. He spends almost six hours down in the workshop, simultaneously working on multiple projects, tinkering with his armor and moving around different parts of machinery. By the time JARVIS notifies him it’s time to stop, Tony is sweaty and grimy, and he smells sort of gross.

Yeesh. Time for a shower to wash it all off.

Tony takes his time, luxuriating under the stream of hot water and singing softly to himself while he shampoos his hair. He uses Steve’s products instead of his own, knowing that smelling his scent on Tony drives his boyfriend crazy and, well, Tony’s kind of hoping he’ll get lucky tonight.

Actually, that’s a lie. He’s not hoping for it. He doesn’t need to when he  _ knows _ he’ll be getting lucky tonight.

After a good twenty minutes in the shower, Tony deems himself scrubbed clean enough and turns off the water. He steps out into the steam-filled bathroom, grabs a towel and begins drying off. Once done, he glances around and realizes that he had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with him.

No matter. It’s not a big deal. He needs to head over to the closet to choose his outfit anyway. With the towel tied around his waist, he makes his way to the walk-in to get dressed for the night.

He pulls open the underwear drawer and takes out a random pair, dropping the towel as he goes. It’s a pair of black boxer-briefs, with little Iron Man helmets printed all over. He doesn’t remember buying these, but it’s no surprise given how much free reign his personal shopper has when it comes to updating his wardrobe. Tony chuckles to himself and pulls them on, figuring Steve would get a kick out of it when he undresses him later in the night.

Tony lets his instinct guide him through the room, picking out whatever his hand touches first. They’re not going anywhere too fancy -- just their favorite Thai place. It is a little more upscale than typical Thai restaurants, so t-shirts are out of the question. He chooses an emerald green dress shirt, which Steve has said complements his skin tone, and pulls on a pair of dark jeans, along with a light sports jacket and matching high-tops. A couple spritzes of cologne later, he’s all set to go.

He takes the elevator down to the common room to look for Steve, who has been hanging out with Bruce and Thor there while he was waiting for Tony. He turns around as soon as he hears the ding of the elevator and watches Tony step out, and his entire face lights up in a brilliant smile.

It’s nice to know that even after two years together, Steve still looks at Tony like he’s the brightest star in the sky.

“Tony! Dare I say you look mighty dashing tonight!” Thor exclaims from his seat.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Steve agrees. He closes the distance between them and presses a gentle kiss on Tony’s lips. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” Tony says.

And Steve really does look very handsome in his white shirt and dark blue jeans, rounded out with a simple black blazer. Tony will forever be grateful to Natasha for introducing skinny jeans to Steve’s closet.

Steve leans forward for another peck before turning back to their friends. “Alright, we’re heading out. See you tomorrow.”

“Have fun guys,” Bruce says with a wave that Tony quickly returns.

The weather is nice; not too stifling and hot, and just breezy enough for a nice walk. They give Happy the rest of the night off in favor of going to the restaurant on foot. They spend 45 minutes hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing, just basking in each other’s company. Tony doesn’t think he could ever get tired of this.

Their conversation continues well into dinner, and even with a couple hours under their belt already, it doesn’t seem to lull. Being with Steve is just easy, like breathing. He could spend the rest of his life with this man and never be bored.

Later that night, when they’re back home in the comfort of their bedroom, Steve pauses as he peels Tony out of his jeans.

“Why are you stopping?”

“Are those…? Is that my underwear?”

Tony looks down, confused. He fingers at the hem of his boxer briefs. “What, these? No, I think they’re mine? I mean, it literally has little Iron Man helmets all over so...obviously. Mine.”

Steve kisses his hip, and Tony can feel the brush of a smile against his skin. “Hmm. No. They’re mine. Nat got them for me as a joke. I’ve worn them quite a few times, actually.”

“Oh, well. I guess I opened your drawer by mistake.” Tony shrugs then gestures at his crotch. “Now that that’s settled, can we get back to it?”

“You didn’t- Did you, um,” Steve stammers. “You didn’t happen to find anything weird? In my drawer, did you?”

“Uh, no? I just grabbed the first thing I saw. Why, you’re not, like, secretly hiding a pet in there, are you? It better not be a tarantula, I swear to god, Steve.”

“What? No, sweetheart, don’t be silly.” Steve lets out an amused little chuckle and kisses his way back up to Tony’s lips, then nibbles along his jaw to Tony’s earlobe. “That’s enough talking for now.”

Tony knows an attempt at diverting the topic when he sees -- or in this case, feels -- one. But with a hand cupping Tony through his briefs and the other rubbing circles around his nipple, Steve makes a compelling argument.

**+1.**

If anyone had asked, twenty years ago, whether Tony would ever settle down with anyone and enjoy wedded bliss, he would have scoffed at them and told them to stop being ridiculous. But here he is now, sharing his first dance with Steve as a married couple.

That’s right. He’s  _ married _ now. He’s locked down, tied the knot, promised himself to another person, for better or worse, in sickness and health. He’s someone’s husband;  _ Steve’s _ husband.

Even better, Steve is  _ his _ husband.

The ceremony was beautiful. They kept it relatively simple, only inviting about 50 of their closest friends, family, and coworkers. They blocked out a portion of Central Park and put up a little tent there for them to say their vows. Instead of having a traditional set up, they organized the chairs to form two aisles so they could both walk down at the same time and meet in the middle. It was perfect, and the sight of Steve’s smile growing wider and brighter with every step they took closer to each other is something that Tony will never forget.

“Are you happy?” Steve asks, jolting Tony back to the present.

“Honey, that’s the dumbest fucking question you could possibly ask me.” Tony looks up from where he’s resting his head against Steve’s chest. “I haven’t had a single drink tonight, but I feel drunk on happiness.” He smiles. “Best day of my life.”

“Everyday with you is the best day of my life.”

“Aww, Rogers, are you getting sappy on me?”

A breathy laugh escapes Steve. “Actually, it’s Rogers- _ Stark _ . And it’s my wedding day. I just married the best fella I know. I’m allowed to be a little sappy.”

Tony can’t control the massive smile that spreads across his face when he hears Steve call himself by his new last name. “Hmm. That’s fair. You’re allowed to get away with a lot of things today.” His hand brushes down Steve’s chest and lingers inside his vest. “Including stealing a tie from your husband’s closet to wear for your wedding. Don’t think I didn’t notice that, Mr. Rogers-Stark.”

“Please, it’s  _ Captain _ Rogers-Stark. Mr. Rogers-Stark is my husband.” Steve grins cheekily at Tony. It’s a gorgeous look on him. “Besides, I got my something new,” he says as he gestures at his shoes. “Something blue,” he points at his cufflinks. “Got the watch my ma gave me. I know it doesn’t work anymore, but still -- something old. I just needed something borrowed. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Tony’s eyes feel glassy and he has to blink several times to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t mind at all,” he says, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat before he continues. “I will be expecting it back though, of course.”

“Of course. You can have it back later tonight,” Steve says, his eyes darkening. “You’ll have to remove it from me yourself though. I’ve become quite attached to it.”

In no universe can Tony ever resist Steve when he obviously comes onto him. And it’s his wedding, where he’s allowed to indulge in newlywed bliss and give into his impulses when it comes to his husband, so he doesn’t. He presses a lingering kiss to Steve’s lips, then nips down the column of his neck. “In that case, you can keep it. Lose the rest of your suit, I don’t care for it. Leave the tie on. Nothing else. What’s mine is yours now, after all.” 

Steve gently places his hand under Tony’s chin and tips Tony’s head back, leaning forward for another kiss. “What’s mine has always been yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> 4 - steve is a DINGUS and hid the ring he's going to propose with in his underwear drawer, thinking tony would never find it bc why would tony look in _steve's_ underwear drawer, of all places? he has his own damn drawer. well! because! tony never fucking wears his own clothes! not even his own boxers!
> 
> +1 - backstory for the watch courtesy of [rescueironman](http://rescueironman.tumblr.com): steve's ma worked two jobs to support the family and it was really hard to scrape their savings together, but even so, she splurged and got steve a watch for his 16th birthday because she firmly believed that every boy should feel special on his coming of age day. years later, tony and steve go to great lengths to track down all of steve's possessions from his brooklyn apartment after he was considered killed in action. they do everything they can to find that watch again, and eventually, they do. (maybe if u convince her enough she'll write a full fic for this)
> 
> you can find me on [tumblr](http://kayytx.tumblr.com)!


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